


Slow Dance

by porcelainepeony



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, M/M, firestormshipping, takeyusa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2020-01-16 00:08:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 13,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18509917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/porcelainepeony/pseuds/porcelainepeony
Summary: Soon-to-be ficlet collection for Takeru/Yusaku. Rating will change, but I'll warn with appropriate ratings (and other warnings if they apply) at the beginning of each ficlet. :'D





	1. Chapter 1

**Word Count:**  ~610  
**Rating:**  G(ay) probably  
 **Notes** : Established relationship of sorts

xxx

The plan was for Takeru to come over, maybe make ramen together, and work on Takeru’s math homework. That plan fell through when Takeru, sitting on Yusaku’s bed, stretched out “ _just for a minute!_ ” He was asleep on Yusaku’s pillow faster than Yusaku realized, faster than Yusaku thought possible. 

Yusaku prepared himself the ramen he wanted, almost spilling boiling water over his hand. Almost forgetting the noodles altogether. He hated making food, preferred the way Takeru made ramen on the stovetop with extra vegetables because it almost convinced Yusaku he was eating well. Takeru was good in the kitchen—better than Yusaku ever would be—and he always made sure Yusaku had food left over, “ _in case you get hungry later.”_

When Yusaku returned to the room, Takeru was still asleep, rolled into what appeared to be a cozy burrito of blanket and limbs. His glasses were awkwardly pressing into his face, and his mouth was slightly open, lungs capturing and releasing air, creating a soft melody of huffs.   
  
Yusaku shouldn’t have cared for his bed. Shouldn’t have missed its warmth. He didn’t sleep much anyway, and when he did, sleep came in the middle of class or in Kusanagi’s truck. Rarely did he sleep in his bed. Rarely did he sleep alone.

Takeru sighed, bangs shuffling as he pressed his face into Yusaku’s pillow and further stamped his glasses into his face. It looked painful, Yusaku thought, and moved close to the sleeping boy, fingertips tracing the green frames, gaze watching the way Takeru’s lashes nestled tenderly against the tops of his cheeks. Yusaku didn’t want to wake Takeru, but he didn’t want Takeru to break his glasses, so he opted to pull them off gently. A grimace touched his lips as Takeru stirred. Groaned. Sighed heavily.

Yusaku barely realized he was frozen in place, barely realized his heart thudded wildly in his chest.

Green eyes traced the faint red indents along Takeru’s skin. Yusaku wanted to touch them—wanted to make sure the blemishes would fade. Instead, he set Takeru’s glasses on the desk and grabbed his pajamas. Homework was no longer important.  
  
Takeru was a true blanket hog. The type that didn’t release the bedsheets no matter how hard someone tugged. Yusaku would have found that trait endearing—everything about Takeru was endearing—but Yusaku was cold, and he didn’t own extra blankets despite barely doing the laundry.

With a sigh, Yusaku stopped tugging, threw himself on the bed, and pressed his head onto the same pillow Takeru’s head rested upon. It was the only one on the bed, so they would have to share. At the very least, Takeru wasn’t a pillow hog too.

Yusaku scooted close to the sleeping boy, hoping to capture some of the warmth radiating from the bundle.

The bundle captured him.

A wave of blankets washed over Yusaku. As did an arm and a leg. Yusaku turned onto his side, raising a brow. “When did you change?” He asked, watching the way red and white strands curled around Takeru’s cheek, noticing Takeru was not wearing his uniform anymore.

“You were eating,” Takeru hummed, eyes still shut, voice the warmest thing about him. It was melodic in a way, soothing in others. Yusaku liked to listen to Takeru talk—liked to listen to his laugh and the way he called for him across the hallway at school every morning.

“You planned this,” Yusaku accused, receiving only a hum and a squeeze in response.

Yusaku closed his eyes. Smiled faintly. Wiggled closer.

That response was the only one Yusaku needed to conclude he preferred sleeping with Takeru over hearing him whine about math.


	2. Chapter 2

**Word** **Count** : ~550  
**Rating** : There’s kissing???  
**Notes** : ~~Sorry if there are formatting issues I AM ON MY PHONE!~~  Established relationship, post-canon probably.

xxx

The storm came out of nowhere, winds howling like children playing tag, trees swaying hysterically, larger-than-usual rain droplets striking skin harshly. Takeru laughed as the water rushed over him, voice infused with self-pity and amusement, with defeat and delight.

Yusaku didn’t see any humor in their situation. He hated the way his clothes felt as it stuck to his skin, hated the heavy feel of wetness weighing him down, hated that he could barely keep his eyes open as he and Takeru made a run for shelter with nothing but his schoolbag protecting his already soaked hair.  
  
Yusaku’s apartment wasn’t far, but it was far away enough to prolong his misery in the rain. “I’ll get us some towels,” he muttered after shutting the door to his bedroom behind them, kicking off his shoes and dropping his schoolbag immediately after.  
  
“Thanks,” Takeru joyfully replied, pouting a bit when his attempts at drying his soaked glasses with his drenched jacket failed. He tried again anyway, shoulders dancing in time to his dedicated strokes.  
  
Yusaku swallowed a hum, tore his gaze from Takeru, and hunted down those towels. When he returned, he tossed one at Takeru and watched the way Takeru’s eyes sparkled at the promise of being dry. Takeru looked different without his glasses. With his hair matted down. With his cheeks stained pink from running. He always had a glow to him, warmth radiating from within, as if his soul were actually set ablaze. The rain hadn’t snuffed the glow but rather had washed away the neatness of his hair, revealing luscious locks that tempted Yusaku’s fingers with a desire to touch. To caress. To kiss.  

Takeru slipped off his jacket. Undid his tie. Folded them over the chair and placed his still wet glasses on the desk. His white shirt was drenched, sticking to his skin the way honey hugged teeth.

Though he was in no better condition, Yusaku removed only his tie. Warmth tickled his cheeks as his gaze met lavender blue.

“So I guess ice cream’s out of the question?” Takeru joked, using the towel to wipe down his face and neck.

As if to answer his question, a deafening roar echoed outside.

Yusaku patted his face dry. “No ice cream,” he confirmed, partially cursing the storm for ruining their plans.

The roughness of a second towel touched Yusaku’s flushed cheek.

Takeru had mastered invading his boyfriend’s personal space months ago, but it never failed to make Yusaku’s heart erupt in madness. His touches were always gentle. Considerate. Comforting. And the way the corners of his lips curled when he looked into Yusaku’s eyes and smiled never ceased to remind Yusaku of magic, of kindness not born of their world.

“You missed a spot,” Takeru whispered, entirely unaware of what he did to Yusaku’s insides. Of what the tiny, simple gestures meant to him. Of how happy—truly and intensely—Yusaku was for having met him.

Their lips met with delicacy. Takeru smiled into the kiss and used his free hand to cup Yusaku’s cheek. Yusaku used both hands and pulled Takeru close, running his fingers through damp locks.

They didn’t need ice cream. Not when the rest of their afternoon was spent locked in each other’s arms. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes:** I was challenged to write some fairy tale AUs for TakeYusa, and since I wanted to get these out quickly, they’re really short (more like snippets of AUs), so like… I’m sorry these are incomplete. But I had fun and thought I’d share them. They’re more like Disney AUs (I’ve referenced the movies slightly), but knowing the fairy tale works too. :’D

xxx

**Word Count:** ~270  
 **Rating:** G

** Little Mermaid **

Yusaku had a tail, and while that wasn’t the most surprising thing Takeru discovered that day—finding out he had to fight a giant, magical octopus was definitely more surprising—Takeru still couldn’t believe he had fallen in love with a merboy.

“We can’t be together,” Yusaku explained, gripping the side of Takeru’s small boat with so much force, Takeru was sure Yusaku would break the wood.

“That’s not fair,” Takeru retorted, hovering over Yusaku, reaching a hand out to cup the merboy’s cheek. “I’ll learn to hold my breath,” he swore, lavender-blue eyes ablaze with determination. Given time, Takeru knew he could think of _something._

“I don’t think it works that way,” Yusaku replied with an air of disappointment, though he did smile faintly at Takeru’s resolve.

Takeru knew Yusaku was right. He was a prince, and Yusaku was a merboy, but that realization didn’t make saying goodbye any easier. “I’ll miss hearing your voice,” Takeru confessed, leaning down, closing his eyes. The distance between them disappeared, lips uniting for the first time since they met.

The kiss was soft. Tender. A bittersweet way to bid farewell.

When they parted, Yusaku’s tail was gone. Takeru was the first to notice.

“B-but,” Takeru mouthed, surprise turning to happiness turning to disbelief. “I thought--”

“I had until the third day’s sunset to kiss you,” Yusaku explained. With the battle, he had forgotten about the specifics of the deal he made, but the cold water against his legs reminded him the sun had yet to set.

Takeru laughed. Now the challenge was finding Yusaku a pair of pants.

x

**Word Count:** ~640  
 **Rating:** G

** Princess and the ~~Frog~~ Cat **

The cat appeared out of nowhere one day, somehow sneaking into Takeru’s tiny flat in between his shifts at the restaurant and the bar. At first, Takeru thought the cat wanted food and would go away willingly if fed, but when he refused to leave despite Takeru’s generous portion of poached chicken, Takeru assumed the cat wanted a place to sleep.

“Impossible, kitty, I can’t take care of the both of us,” he explained, thinking about his disappointing pay and awful tips, rubbing the blue fur gently. The cat wasn’t the most affectionate, but he allowed Takeru a few ear scratches before trotting under the bed for sleep.

The next day after his first shift, Takeru ran to the nearest pet store and bought a litter box, litter, toys, actual cat food, and a small scratching post, hoping the cat hadn’t destroyed his flat in the six hours he had been gone.

Miraculously, the cat knew better than to use Takeru’s floor as a bathroom. He had, however, taken residency on Takeru’s bed, no doubt expecting to sleep on it.

“You can’t sleep with me,” Takeru sighed after filling the litter box and making a spot for the cat on the floor. He was tired, but the cat was warm in his arms, and its green eyes and soft purrs relaxed him, made it easier for Takeru to fall asleep. He was almost late for his next shift.

Takeru never expected to find such good company with a cat. After his parents died, Takeru found it hard to connect to people, found it hard to find a place to call home. But the cat gave Takeru space and provided enough cuddle sessions to keep him warm during winter. And, in return, Takeru let the cat roam the entire flat, allowed him free reign of his bed. He even let the cat rub their cheeks together, which would only result in the cat flopping on top of Takeru’s chest as he tried to fall asleep. Takeru didn’t mind though. The cat had grown to trust him, and Takeru would do anything for his furry companion.

The cat snuggled on Takeru’s lap, nuzzling its face against Takeru’s thigh, readying himself for a nap. Takeru smiled, shoving a piece of pizza into his mouth before leaning down to kiss the tip of the cat’s ear. “I love you, kitty, you know that?” He asked the cat, imagining the cat probably saw his human companion as nothing more than a meal ticket.

A strange aura surrounded the cat as Takeru pulled away. Takeru blinked, eyes widening, the weight on his lap growing. When the aura disappeared, familiar green eyes stared back at Takeru.

“Y-y-you’re a--”

“Yusaku,” the young man on Takeru’s lap replied. “I was cursed.”

Takeru tilted his head, reached for his blanket, and threw it over Yusaku’s shoulders. “Cursed?”

Yusaku nodded, the taunting words the shadow man who had cursed him leaving his mouth in a whisper. “ _Until the day you find what you truly need in your life, you will stay in that cursed form._ ”

Takeru knew nothing about curses, but he could read the loneliness in Yusaku’s eyes and in the way his shoulders slumped. How long had the stray cat been without a place to sleep? Without someone to cuddle him? Without a family? “You needed a home,” Takeru guessed, his smile growing despite the absurdity of the situation. “I guess we’ll need a bigger bed, Yusaku,” he joked, sincerity bubbling in his voice.

“You’re not kicking me out?” Yusaku asked, raising a brow in question.

With a shrug, Takeru confessed, “This wouldn’t be home without you. Not anymore.” Granted, it would take some getting used to, but at least Takeru could toss away the litter box and stop tripping over cat toys in the dark.

x

**Word Count:** 330  
 **Rating:** G

** Sleeping Beauty **

Takeru knew he had to defeat the dragon before reaching the cursed, sleeping Yusaku, but knowing what to do and accomplishing said feat were two entirely different things.

The dragon was ruthless. Intelligent. Cunning. With a slap of its tail, Takeru had lost his sword. A flap of its wing had dislodged the shield he carried. And one heavy landing had shaken the ground and caused Takeru to lose his footing and slip off the cliffside.

When he opened his eyes, Takeru realized he was cradled against the dragon’s wing, still very much alive despite the dragon’s proximity. “You saved me,” he observed, his once determined gaze filling with regret and guilt. The king and queen and all the land had assured Takeru that the dragon needed to be killed, that Yusaku would remain in a sleeping curse unless the dragon guarding him were defeated. “But maybe they’re wrong about you,” Takeru whispered, gentle hand reaching up to touch the dragon’s snout.

Though no words were uttered, the dragon allowed the touch, dipping its head lower till it touched Takeru’s forehead.

Takeru smiled. Apologized. Promised himself he’d rescue his lifelong friend some other way.

A light engulfed the two, bright and powerful and warm. Takeru closed his eyes and felt the dragon’s wing disappear beneath him. He landed on the ground with a grunt, but the pain ebbed the moment he was greeted by Yusaku’s voice.

“You beat the curse,” Yusaku mumbled with a yawn, sitting up only because he anticipated Takeru’s hug and found himself yearning for the familiar, warm embrace.

“No way!” Takeru cheered, squeezing the friend he had met in the forest, the concealed prince he had fallen in love with. “It was you. All I did was lose my weapon and trip.”

Yusaku smiled. It was a tired smile, but Takeru knew it meant Yusaku appreciated the attempted rescue and that he was glad they were together again, not just in their dreams, but for an eternity.


	4. Chapter 4

**Rating:**  Fourth one = smut, but the first three are fluffy!  
 **Word Count:**  ~130-170 words each  
 **Notes:**  Four vignettes about four “firsts”—requested by a friend <3

xxx

Takeru’s arms were warm and strong and surprisingly gentle as they wrapped around Yusaku and gave him a tight squeeze.

“You did it!” Takeru cheered, his voice a whispered lullaby next to Yusaku’s ear. “You saved us!”

Yusaku couldn’t remember the last time he was hugged—couldn’t remember the last time someone had held him so tenderly—but he thought he would remember the feel of Takeru’s arms around him for lifetimes, for the touch fired up his strength, seared comfort into his soul, and brought warmth to his heart.

Encircling his arms around Takeru, Yusaku returned the embrace, burying his nose against the crook of Takeru’s neck, breathing in his friend’s scent, surrendering to his loving hug.

For the first time in his life, Yusaku felt at home.

x 

The first time Yusaku’s hand bumped Takeru’s had surely been an accident. Both were quick to mutter apologies, neither realizing how their bodies instinctively lured each other closer. But the hand-brushing became more frequent as the days passed, as they became more comfortable in each other’s presence, as friendly conversation filled the silence when they walked home.

The sun was setting. A cool breeze kissed their skin. Yusaku’s knuckles caressed Takeru’s hand for a third time that afternoon.

Takeru didn’t usually pay attention to small details, but when Yusaku’s hand lingered against his, he knew the touching was deliberate, a hushed plea for warmth and assurance, for affection and security.

Gingerly and without thought, Takeru stepped closer to Yusaku, trailed his fingertips against Yusaku’s palm, intertwined their fingers.

Yusaku didn’t pull away, even when Takeru squeezed his hand, even when Takeru gave his arm a little tug.

Takeru took note of the faint—beautiful—smile on Yusaku’s lips. It was then he decided he’d never to let go of Yusaku’s hand.

x

Yusaku wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. Why his heart was threatening to erupt within his chest. Why his hands were trembling. Kissing wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. He had seen enough of it in movies. Had caught sight of couples stealing quick pecks along the streets of Den City. But at that moment, he couldn’t control his heart’s racing, much less the blush that powdered his cheeks.  

Takeru’s forehead touched Yusaku’s. Yusaku closed his eyes, touched his nose to Takeru’s, felt his insides melt at the soft laugh that escaped Takeru’s lips. 

“So can I kiss you?” Takeru asked. He was shy. Nervous. Far too tender and considerate.

Yusaku managed a hum and a nod in reply. Threaded his fingers through Takeru’s hair. Pulled Takeru against him.

Their lips fit perfectly, like roses and sunshine, like ocean and moonlight.

Yusaku’s nerves burned away. There was only Takeru.

x

Their clothes hit the floor, a symphony of rustling accompanied by an orchestra of moans and gasps. 

Yusaku’s skin was clammy and warm, his kisses desperate, his movements clumsy and frantic and every bit as anxious as Takeru’s. They hadn’t gone all the way before. Hadn’t seen each other fully unclothed. Hadn’t pressed against each other and become whole. 

Takeru kissed Yusaku’s neck, skimmed palms down his chest, used fingertips to outline and memorize the feel of Yusaku’s body squirming beneath his touch. Yusaku was beautiful, Takeru thought as his hands smoothed over skin and spread Yusaku’s legs, as their lips fused, as Yusaku groaned and tangled fingers in Takeru’s hair. 

Yusaku quivered when Takeru pressed inside, pulled Takeru closer, mumbled something incoherent against Takeru’s lips. It made the butterflies inside Takeru’s stomach take flight, made him breathe out heavily before rejoining their lips, made him thrust a little quicker, a little deeper.

Their waltz was short, but in the morning, they realized they would never feel alone again. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Word Count** : ~340  
**Rating** : T (Yusaku really wants a kiss.)  
**Notes** : Established relationship

xxx

Never did Yusaku think he’d be jealous of strawberries. The idea was absurd. Illogical. Downright childish. But the second the fruit touched Takeru’s lips was the moment Yusaku realized how much he envied the thing.

Takeru’s delighted hum was like a symphony. It was light and bouncy, deliriously happy, pleasant and soothing. Yusaku had never heard a more beautiful sound—not from the windchimes that sang their love songs to the cool autumn breeze nor from the peaceful patter of raindrops worshiping sidewalks and windowsills.

The strawberry seemingly melted inside Takeru’s mouth, its juices probably coating Takeru’s tongue in utter sweetness. Yusaku frowned at the thought and watched the way Takeru’s cheeks moved as he happily chewed the fruit and savored the flavor.

When their gazes met, Takeru swallowed. Smiled. Yusaku could feel his face warm, turn the very shade of the strawberries he so resented.

“Want one?” Takeru asked, breaking Yusaku’s concentration.

“Hm?”

“A strawberry. You’ve been staring at them all afternoon.” With a smile, Takeru grabbed the greens of a strawberry, plucked it up, and held it for Yusaku to see. “I told you. I don’t mind sharing.”

Yusaku shook his head. “No, it’s fine,” he replied, observing the way Takeru’s shoulders danced in laughter.

“Suit yourself!”

The strawberry touched Takeru’s tongue. Teeth severed the fruit from the stem and leaves. Yusaku scooted his chair closer, waited till Takeru finished his snack, wove his fingers around Takeru’s tie, and pulled.

Takeru tasted sweet. Sweeter than usual. Sweeter than the strawberry. And when he melted into the kiss and smiled against Yusaku’s lips, Yusaku knew nothing in the world would ever feel the way kissing Takeru felt.

Takeru pulled away, taking Yusaku’s breath with him. “So you weren’t staring at the strawberries?” Takeru asked, amusement lacing his eyes.

Yusaku released Takeru’s tie and eyed the strawberries before grabbing one and bringing it to his lips. “I was,” he admitted, though he would never confess the exact reason why he had been glaring at the strawberries. Takeru could unravel that mystery on his own.


	6. Chapter 6

**Rated** : Probably G, but there are boys kissing on a bed, so take that as you will!  
 **Notes** : Too lazy to word count on the phone. Forgive typos and such—it’s late and I haven’t slept in a couple of days otl

xxx

No one had ever been to his flat before. No one except Roboppi and Ai, both of whom were now gone. As much as a part of him wished Ai hadn’t left, Yusaku never expected Ai to return. He had no reason to stay with Yusaku after the war ended, and Yusaku had made peace with that reality. Roboppi, on the other hand, had been collateral that he had not anticipated. Tirelessly and for days, Yusaku tried hard to revive her. But as stubborn as he was, Yusaku had to force himself to come to terms with her demise, however sudden and saddening it was.  
  
"It's small," Takeru observed, lavender blue eyes roaming the room, examining the desk, the bed, the lack of sentimentality. "Smaller than my place even."  
  
"It's enough," Yusaku replied, placed his schoolbag on the desk, ushered Takeru to do the same. "Soda?"  
  
Takeru shook his head, "I'm okay."  
  
Yusaku nodded, sat on the edge of his bed, tensed then relaxed when Takeru sat beside him. It had been his idea to invite Takeru over. He wanted—needed—someone there, in that empty, quiet, lonely room. But it was hard to admit he was miserable and alone when Takeru probably felt the same. 

"It's kind of cozy," Takeru hummed, leaning back on his arms, flashing Yusaku a smile. "Flame was always complaining about how the bedroom echoed. Not enough furniture I guess."

Shrugging, Yusaku looked at his hands. They rested on his lap as he fiddled with his fingers. "Ai complained about everything. He missed home."

Takeru frowned, "I guess that's how you know you're home. You miss it when you're away."

Yusaku spoke before the words had time to form in his mind. “Do you miss the country?”

“Nah,” Takeru admitted, sitting upright. His gaze was gentle as he stared at Yusaku and confessed, “I love my grandparents, but it never felt like home.”

Takeru didn’t have to say anything else for Yusaku to understand. He knew what it was like to have a meaningless space boxed within four walls that meant absolutely nothing. For a while, Yusaku didn’t mind coming back to his flat after school. Roboppi made the place tolerable; Ai made it lively. But now it was quiet and cold and--

Arms encircled Yusaku. Warm, strong arms that pulled him down onto the bed with a small gasp. 

Takeru's glasses were lopsided, but his smile sparkled, caught some light that Yusaku couldn't see despite the curtains being pulled back, and reflected it back to Yusaku, filling him with comfort and security. 

Hesitantly, Yusaku returned the hug, wrapped his arms around Takeru's waist and brought him closer. 

Takeru's hand found, cupped Yusaku's cheek. Fingers traced the contours of Yusaku's temple and jaw, brushed back hair. Their gazes met. Takeru smiled, laughed softly, and leaned closer, till his forehead touched Yusaku's. 

Yusaku breathed out, reached his own hand up, ran his fingers through Takeru's hair. When their lips met, both boys sighed. Muscles relaxed. Time ceased. The loneliness they felt washed away. Only they existed. Only the two of them, wrapped intimately in each other's arms, locked in a promise that was formed by understanding, fastened by friendship, reinforced by a feeling neither of them were quite sure they could name. 

"Yusaku," Takeru whispered, pulling away enough to breathe life into his words without severing contact. 

"Hm?"

"I'll stay here. With you. For however long you want." Takeru's smile was big. Overflowing with warmth. Brimming with adoration. 

Yusaku nodded, smiling in return, moving his fingers to Takeru's glasses. He wondered why Takeru’s arms made him feel welcome and protected, happy and secure, but he didn’t question it. “Good,” he whispered, pulling Takeru’s glasses off. “I wasn't going to let you leave.”

Takeru laughed, closed the distance between them, pulled Yusaku closer. 

There was no reason for either of them to be alone anymore. Not when they had found each other. Not when they had found home. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Word Count:** ~635  
 **Rating:** T-M, depending on your sensibilities  
 **Notes:** Implied sexual relationship, Yusaku touching and admiring Takeru’s body, but what I thought would end up as smut is actually me being a hopeless romantic. Nothing smutty happens. I just imagine this is how Yusaku would say “I love you” or like "marry me" because I think it’s difficult for him to wrap his head around feelings.  

xxx

They were supposed to be going to sleep. They had class in the morning. Takeru had a math exam. And Yusaku promised Kusanagi he’d watch the truck for him after school.  
  
When Takeru slipped off his shirt, Yusaku couldn’t pry his gaze. Watched with awe at the way Takeru’s muscles moved. At the way the light from the old lamp kissed highlights upon his skin and cast shadows across his body. At the promise of protection and safety twined within the curves of his arms.  
  
“Beautiful,” Yusaku mumbled, unsure of why he spoke when he did, but Takeru had long ago cast a spell upon his lips and eyes and mind, and the word stumbled out, tripping on its way to Takeru’s ears.   
  
A light blush dusted Takeru’s cheeks, his smile infused with sweetness and innocence. It was a smile that burst from the soul, that could burn and scorch with the same intensity as the sun, that could melt the ice walls Yusaku had built around himself as well as the one protecting his heart.  
  
“Sorry,” Yusaku mumbled. He wasn’t shy. They had seen each other naked before. Had pressed close to each other beneath the blankets. Had touched and kissed and caressed bare skin in urgency and uninhibited curiosity. But the feeling swelling in his chest was different. It made Yusaku’s heart tremble. His fingers quiver with a desire to trace skin. To eternally memorize the feel of Takeru’s chest rising and falling beneath his palms, lest he woke up in the morning to find happiness had been nothing but a delusion.  
  
Takeru laughed, “You’ve never looked at me that way. Is everything okay?” He wasn’t shy either. That much became clearer every time they kissed. Every time Takeru wrapped his arms around Yusaku’s waist and pulled him close. Every time he lazily trailed his lips down Yusaku’s neck. But when he met Yusaku’s gaze that night, Takeru’s eyes glimmered with a hint of coyness Yusaku hasn’t seen since the day they shared their first kiss.  
  
Yusaku finished unbuttoning his shirt. Slid it off his shoulders. Walked closer to Takeru. Finally within reach, Yusaku raised both hands, touched fingertips to Takeru’s chest, lightly traced ribs encased in skin.  
  
Takeru’s blush brightened, his own hands slinking around Yusaku’s waist, flaring against his lower back. The touch was warm and gentle, even as strong hands pulled Yusaku’s body closer. “I thought we had to go to bed,” he murmured, the blush touching his nose, his smile endearingly sheepish.

There weren’t words Yusaku could thread together to convey his thoughts. Instead, he glided his hands up Takeru’s chest, over his collarbone, and up his neck and used fingertips to draw small, lazy circles against the base of his head, while carefully watching the way his lashes fluttered when he blinked.

Takeru smiled and chuckled softly when Yusaku’s hands drifted past his ears and to his glasses. When the glasses came off, Takeru closed his eyes, pressed their foreheads together, and tapped his nose against Yusaku’s.   
  
Yusaku returned the smile. Placed the glasses on the desk nearby. Threaded his fingers in Takeru’s hair and pulled them both to bed.

They landed in a heap of arms and legs and laughter, slipped their pants off, and pulled the bedsheet over themselves. Arms encircled waists. Skin touched. Muscles relaxed. Yusaku sighed softly when Takeru delivered a small kiss against his temple.  
  
“I never want this to end,” Yusaku murmured against Takeru’s shoulder and sealed his words with a chaste kiss.  
  
Takeru hummed. Tightened his arms around Yusaku. Relished the comforting warmth that came when flesh met flesh. “Never,” he promised, yawning, succumbing to slumber’s spell as his fingers rubbed random patterns upon Yusaku’s arm.  
  
Yusaku closed his eyes, the lullaby of Takeru’s heartbeat enticing him to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Rating** : T  
 **Word** **Count** : ~3200  
 **Summary** : Ai inadvertently provokes a very messy pocky game in which Takeru is a nervous wreck and Yusaku doesn’t understand anything. Also, bad sexual jokes (or more like sexual innuendos) courtesy of Ai and slight references to masturbation. Maybe. YOU CAN JUDGE.   
 **Notes** : Um… this is longer than other stuff in this collection… and it probably belongs on its own, BUT I’M LAZY!

xxx  
  
“It’s called a pocky game,” Ai explains, arms crossed, smug amusement encasing his small frame. Had he lips, the grin on his face would have been terrifyingly long and toothy.   
  
Flame places his hands on his hips and looks over at Takeru and Yusaku, both of whom sit not too far away with hotdogs in their hands. “And it’s some type of duel?” he asks, suspicious of Ai’s motives. Takeru is a decent duelist—with Flame’s help, of course—but Flame could tell just by looking at the two boys that Yusaku could beat Takeru at almost any game that didn’t depend on stamina or strength. Perhaps, if they sparred, Takeru would stand a chance and maybe even impress Yusaku.

Ai nods and throws his hands up, “Yeah, it’s some weird game humans play when they really like each other. And Yusaku reeeeeeally likes Takeru.” Wrapping an arm around Flame’s shoulders, Ai adds in a whisper, “He calls out Takeru’s name at night. Moans it all desperately and gross. Sometimes in his sleep. It’s baaaaad.”  
  
Like striking a match, Flame’s curiosity ignites. Also lowering his voice, Flame edges closer to Ai, “Takeru does that too.” And though Takeru laughs off Flame’s questions in the morning, Flame knows something has been bothering Takeru for a few weeks now, especially at night, when he hides beneath the covers and falls asleep calling his friend’s name. “Are you sure Yusaku wants to play this game with Takeru?” Flame questions, still wary of Ai’s true intentions, but all the fire ignis wants is for Takeru to feel better and maybe confess whatever it is that is bugging him before he keeps himself up at night.

The entertained chuckle should have served as a warning. “Yusaku’s shy,” Ai explains with a small shrug. “So Takeru should make the first move.”

Flame nods. At the very least, Takeru could start the match.

x

“He wants to  _what_?” Takeru asks, hair damp beneath the towel that rests atop his head, one eyebrow raised in curiosity, heart skipping a beat, then another as he processes Flame’s words.

“Yusaku wants to play the pocky game with you, but he’s too shy to ask.”

Takeru’s hands shake, but the trembling is nowhere near as alarming as the heat rising to his face in a rush of molten waves. “He told you this?” It’s a stupid question, Takeru knows, but he has to say something to distract his poor—but definitely not so innocent—mind from conjuring images of kissing Yusaku in an empty classroom and pushing his back into the wall thereafter to slip his tongue into Yusaku’s mouth. 

Flame crosses his arms, tilts his head to the side, and watches Takeru from his spot on the bed as he confesses, “No. Ai mentioned Yusaku moans your name at night, and he--”

Takeru knows it’s impolite to cut someone off mid-sentence, but his legs unfold the moment his brain registers the word  _moans_ , and he’s lunging himself off his bed, tripping over blankets, and hiding in the bathroom before he even thinks about needing to come up with a pretty damn convincing excuse for running out on Flame. 

“Takeru, is everything okay?” Flame shouts. 

“Yeah, I’ll be out soon,” Takeru lies. He hates lying, especially to Flame, but there was absolutely no way he could explain what the thought of Yusaku moaning his name was doing to his delicate sensibilities. And to his boxers. “J-j-just really have to p-pee,” he adds, turning on the faucet to splash cold water on his face. 

Takeru spends the next ten minutes sitting on the toilet lid, trying to figure out how to acquire a box of pocky before classes end the next day. 

x

A few months into knowing Takeru, and Yusaku is still unsure of what constitutes a friendship. He knows the he and Takeru are on a first-name basis. Accepts the fact that Takeru will sometimes spam his text inbox with really dated memes and general texts asking if he wants to get a coffee. Admits—only to himself—that Takeru is nice on the eyes and easy on the ears, though he is uncertain why any of that matters. But when Takeru nervously asks Yusaku to meet him in an empty classroom one morning, stammers some chopped up sentence not even a computer program can decipher, and proceeds to mutter a frustrated curse, Yusaku wonders if he has done something wrong. 

“Are you okay?” Yusaku asks, raising a brow.

Takeru is holding his school bag against his chest, breathing erratically, not once meeting Yusaku’s gaze. “I’m fine,” he manages between biting his bottom lip and trying to wedge something out from his bag. “I-I-I w-w-wa--”

Whatever Takeru wants to say is cut off when whatever he is holding tears. Tiny, broken pieces of what appear to be food then start dropping from his bag, and Takeru releases something between a yelp and a whine. 

Takeru looks devastated. Falls to his knees. Frowns. Buries his face in his hands with a slightly pained groan, no doubt from shoving his glasses right into the bridge of his nose, and sighs. 

Yusaku’s hand itches to reach out and pet Takeru, to rub his hair in comfort, but Takeru mumbles, “It’s nothing. I’ll see you later,” and Yusaku, afraid of making whatever that all was worse, nods and leaves, albeit reluctantly.

x

Yusaku hasn’t see Takeru for two days, seven hours, and 25 minutes. He isn’t sure why it matters, why not seeing Takeru every day is a detail he wakes up with and clings to throughout the entire day, but at lunchtime, Yusaku realizes he is keeping count of how slow the minutes pass. Of how lonely his text inbox is. Of how Takeru is eating lunch somewhere in the school building without Yusaku by his side.

A sigh escapes Yusaku’s lips, gaze locked onto the whiteboard at the front of the classroom, chin resting on his palm. He thinks he misses Takeru. Misses listening to someone that isn’t Ai talk to him about random topics that don’t interest him but hold his attention nonetheless. Was friendship supposed to be that complicated? Was he supposed to want to see Takeru every day? Was he supposed to feel lonely despite being antisocial and an introvert?

“Hey!” Takeru cheers, spotting Yusaku in his classroom after the school day is over.

Daydreaming is not something Yusaku likes to do, particularly if it keeps him in school longer than he has to be. But at that moment, not hearing the dismissal bell might have been a good thing. A blessing of some sort. A segue into figuring out what he had done wrong because he felt more than a little empty without Takeru’s smile greeting him in the mornings. 

“Hey,” Yusaku replies, standing up, grabbing his school bag. He offers a small smile as Takeru rushes into the room.

Takeru looks relieved, Yusaku thinks. Relieved and nervous, but excited and determined. This is the Takeru Yusaku knows. The one that holds the sun in his eyes and bursts of fire in his soul. The one who always appears ready to pull Yusaku under his arm and drag him to buy bubble tea. The one who looks extra cute with pink dusting his cheeks.

“Yooo Fujiki!” Shima’s voice resonates, piercing the otherwise silent room.

Before Takeru could get a word out, Shima is smiling up at Yusaku, standing between him and Takeru. “Are you coming to the Duel Club today? I have some cool new cards to show everyone.” A chuckle. “You’ll be so jealous!”

Yusaku frowns. “I’m busy,” is his curt reply, knowing Shima means well, but wanting to spend his afternoon with Takeru. Unfortunately, when he looks up, Takeru is gone. 

An emptiness forms in Yusaku’s stomach. 

x

Though he refuses to acknowledge the comfort he takes in having Ai around, Yusaku will sometimes ask his ignis to accompany him to school. Knowing Ai is in his bag is reassuring, mostly because he knows Ai isn’t doing something stupid but also because he knows Ai listens. Not that Yusaku talks a lot, but after another two days of not seeing Takeru, Yusaku thinks it’s nice to talk to some _thing_ , or, at the very least, listen to a voice that wasn’t his own thoughts berating him for driving Takeru away. 

“Yusaku!” Takeru shouts, this time catching Yusaku in the hallway after school. It was late, and while most students had already left to enjoy the beginning of the weekend, Yusaku lingers, as usual, to avoid walking amidst the crowds and risk Ai saying something inappropriate. Again. 

“Takeru,” Yusaku whispers, something akin to happiness wafting in his chest. Takeru’s smile is warm. A beacon of gentleness. A symbol of what Yusaku thinks—hopes—is the beginning of a real friendship, of trust, of respect and concern for each other’s wellbeing and an end to the weird mumbling and awkward escapes. 

“I’m glad I found you,” Takeru says, glancing around, making sure no one was left in the hall. His cheeks flush the cutest shade of pink, and Yusaku thinks he’s never seen anything quite as adorable in his entire life. 

“Yo, Takeru!” Ai calls, poking his head out of Yusaku’s school bag, eyes curving. “Yusaku’s worried about you~ He complains all night and says you keep running off and--”

Yusaku shoves Ai back into the backpack and meets Takeru’s gaze. “Ignore him,” he implores, but he realizes he’s too late when Takeru’s determination slips into disappointment. 

Takeru laughs nervously, cheeks turning the color of apples. “I uh… I got this for you,” he stammers, shoving a box of pocky into Yusaku’s hands before turning around and nearly dashing down the hall. Before he leaves, however, he turns to glance at Yusaku and adds, “Don’t worry about me. I’ve just had a lot of homework, but I’ll catch you later!”

With a faint nod, Yusaku watches Takeru leave, then glances at the box of pocky in his hand. He doesn’t know why Takeru thinks to get him a gift, but it does nothing to alleviate his concerns and everything to make him question whether Takeru is truly spending his afternoons doing homework.

x

It’s not like Ai cares  _that_  much about Yusaku’s happiness, but when reduced to nothing more than a captive and imprisoned in a tiny, dirty, smelly flat, Ai notices things. Specifically, he notices Yusaku’s small sighs and how they multiply and deepen as the days pass. He notices the knitted brows bound with frustration. And he notices the tiny frowns that, though rather common on Yusaku’s face, somehow seem out of place and troubling and--

“That’s the twenty-fourth sigh this evening!” Ai shouts, slumping atop the duel disk, golden beaded eyes staring at the side of Yusaku’s face with something comparable to worry. 

Yusaku sits cross-legged on his bed, tablet open, some random YouTube video playing in the background. His gaze is glued to the screen, but he’s not concentrating on the video nor the fact that Ai could easily type _porn_ into the search bar and infect Yusaku’s tablet with more than viruses.

“You’re thinking about Takeru again,” Ai jabs, but even that doesn’t get Yusaku’s attention, and Ai almost drops the subject entirely to conjure ways to prank Yusaku and lock him out of his own accounts. 

Another sigh, and Ai decides to let out a frightful gasp as he adds, rather loudly, “Or is it me you can’t stop thinking about, Playmaker-sama?!” 

The stupid remark earns Ai a non-threatening glare. “Shut up,” Yusaku says with a roll of his eyes. Leaning his back against the wall, Yusaku stares at the ceiling, lips curling down into the biggest frown Ai thinks he’s ever seen.

It’s at that moment Ai decides he never wants to see Yusaku with that expression again.

“If I’m not the one on your mind, who then, is more important?” Ai overdramatically complains, already knowing the answer. When Yusaku doesn’t reply, Ai whines, stands, and leaves the duel disk in favor of climbing over Yusaku’s thigh and sitting neatly on his lap.

“I think something’s wrong with Takeru,” Yusaku blurts, not looking down at Ai.

Yusaku didn’t like talking about his feelings, Ai knew, but his crush was getting out of hand and Yusaku wasn’t even aware he was crushing. It was all really stupid, especially because Takeru’s crush was obvious, yet Yusaku seemed to miss every lingering gaze and dreamy smile. 

Ai cocks his head to the side. “Because he bought you pocky?” He asks, failing to see why receiving a gift would cause Yusaku such turmoil.

Yusaku closes his eyes, hesitant with his reply. “I think he’s trying to tell me something, but I’m not sure what. And besides the pocky, stammering, and blushing, I don’t have enough information to draw a reasonable conclusion.”

The words jog Ai’s memory. Glancing to the side and spotting the pocky on the desk, Ai wonders if that particular box of pocky isn’t a result of what he told Flame no more than a week ago. Surely Flame hadn’t believed Ai. Surely Flame hadn’t told Takeru to try playing the pocky game with Yusaku. Surely what Ai meant to be a joke hadn’t evolve into… whatever it was that Takeru was doing.

A gasp. Ai flails his arms, loses balance, and falls off Yusaku’s lap and onto the mattress. “You like Takeru!” He accuses, pointing, internally freaking out because Flame was most certainly not supposed to convince Takeru to go through with the game, and now he—they!!! Flame was at fault too!!!—made a mess of their idiot origins and their silly high school crushes. “And Takeru likes you!” Ai nearly shouts as he stands back up, the safety of the duel disk a much more appealing prospect than the angry glare suddenly threatening to erase him into nothingness. 

Before Ai makes it to his sanctuary, Yusaku grabs him as if the ignis were nothing more than a toy to be flung. “Ai, is there something you’re not telling me?”

Ai laughs nervously, wondering how much hitting a wall and falling to the ground would hurt. “No!” He lies, attempting to pry himself from Yusaku’s grasp, which is tightening, squeezing the air he didn’t need to breathe out of his tiny, innocent, delicate body. 

“Then why’re you so jittery?”

Flapping his arms, Ai nearly screeches, “FLAME TOLD ME TAKERU WANTS TO PLAY THE POCKY GAME WITH YOU!” 

Yusaku’s look of utter disbelief is something Ai doesn’t think he will ever forget. 

“He wants to  _what_?” Yusaku asks, apparently needing a lot more clarification for someone who thought he was so smart. 

“He. Wants. To. Play. The. Pocky. Game. With. You.” Ai repeats, slower, louder, then wraps his arms around himself for added emphasis. “Flame says Takeru hugs his pillow and moans your name in the middle of the night. And he thinks about you in bed and in the shower and--HEY! Where are you going?”

Yusaku doesn’t mutter a single word in reply as he grabs a hoodie and the pocky and leaves his room. 

Ai wonders if he can teach Yusaku some manners, but the boy is hopeless. Truly! And why Takeru would actually want to kiss Yusaku is a baffling mystery Ai doesn’t think he’ll ever resolve. 

But with Yusaku gone, Ai can plot his escape.

x

When he receives Yusaku’s text, Takeru expects some formal invitation to Kusanagi’s truck, as was usual during odd hours at night. Instead, he is asked to meet Yusaku outside, on the pier overlooking Stardust Road, where Café Nagi likes to station itself from time to time. Where he and Yusaku sometimes talk while staring at the night sky. Where he first noticed how enchanting Yusaku’s eyes were as they captured the sparkling starlight and glistened with more magic than could ever exist in fairy tales. 

“Hey,” Takeru greets when Yusaku approaches, cheeks flushed, eyes spotting the box of pocky resting in the pocket of Yusaku’s sweater. Takeru doesn’t have to read between the lines to know Yusaku is probably going to return the box and ask him what was going on, to which Takeru would hopefully respond—if his rehearsed reply played out like he wanted it to—with the truth. Not some excuse invented to protect his crumbling teenage heart. Yusaku deserved to know the truth, and only then would Takeru be able to confess, properly, without using the pocky game as an pretext to ki--

“Let’s play a game,” Yusaku mutters, brows scrunched, hands shaking as they reach for the box of pocky and pull out a stick. His cheeks are rosy, while his eyes avoid looking directly into Takeru’s gaze, which only makes Takeru’s anxiety grow.

Takeru didn’t practice any reactions for that kind of dialogue, so he falters in his words, blushes profusely, and laughs nervously when his eyes meet the pocky stick. “W-wait… Y-y-you s-s-still want to p-play? With me?”

Yusaku is holding the pocky halfway up to his mouth when he raises a brow and meets Takeru’s gaze. “Don’t you?”

There was something not right about Yusaku’s question and dazed expression. Something that almost made it seem like Takeru was the one who wanted to play the game in the first place. Which wasn’t true. As much as he wanted to play the game during the course of the week, Takeru only tried to play the stupid game because Flame told him that Ai--

“Damn them!” Takeru grumbles, and Yusaku drops his hand to the side, a promise to unleash hell upon Ai when he returns home evident in the way his green eyes flicker with agitation. 

Takeru’s heart speeds, eyes watching Yusaku carefully. Watching the way Yusaku’s mascara-covered lashes flutter. Watching how the breeze dances with Yusaku’s hair. Watching how his tongue darts out to lick his lips before they form into some hushed word Takeru didn’t care to hear. 

Yusaku wanting to play the pocky game was nothing but a lie. And yet, he had texted Takeru, asked him out in the middle of the night, and attempted to initiate the game anyway, all for Takeru’s sake. Didn’t that mean Yusaku actually, really, truly liked him? Didn’t that mean Takeru’s feelings were reciprocated? Didn’t that mean he could go ahead with the second phase of his plan and kiss Yusaku?

Breathing deeply, Takeru reaches for Yusaku’s wrist and pulls him close. Erases the distance between them. Brings Yusaku into his arms and presses their lips together in a somewhat clumsy, almost painful collision that quickly morphs into tenderness wrapped in caramel. The pocky falls from Yusaku’s hand and hits the ground as Yusaku shyly wraps his arms around Takeru and fists his hands into Takeru’s hoodie. Takeru sighs, and Yusaku pulls Takeru closer, leans into Takeru’s body, and parts his lips just enough to taste Takeru and hum happily into his mouth. 

When they part, Takeru laughs softly. “Guess we didn’t need to play that stupid game,” he mumbles, reaching a hand up to Yusaku’s cheek, brushing a strand of hair behind Yusaku’s ear. 

Yusaku offers a small smile, silently agreeing. 

Regardless of the outcome, though, Ai wasn’t safe.


	9. Chapter 9

**Word Count:** ~945  
**Rating:** T though there are hints of sex  
**Notes:** I live in hell. It’s hot. This was written in desperation because my AC stopped working today and I might die, so why not write one more TakeYusa ficlet before I melt, right?

Set a few years in the future, and they’re in some sort of pre-established relationship.

xxx

The fan stops working at exactly 12:06 p.m. Yusaku notices only because Takeru sighs and dramatically slams his face into his barely-begun math homework. He’s never been so vocal. Has never groaned about his hatred of summer so much before. But when Takeru lifts his head and flashes Yusaku a small grin, glasses lopsided and threatening to slide off the bridge of his nose, Yusaku can only smile in return and agree.  
  
“We should get ice cream,” Takeru suggests, pulling his glasses off, sliding fingers through his bangs, charmingly brushing strands of apple red and silvery white out of his face. Yusaku remembers the first time he ever saw Takeru. Remembers thinking Takeru looked soft and warm and unmenacing. Yet whenever Takeru slicks his hair back, his appearance alters. He’s rougher. A little more intimidating. A lot more confident.

Yusaku has no preference over how Takeru wears his hair. It’s hair, and it doesn’t stop Yusaku’s fingers from burying themselves in thick locks whenever their lips are fused. Still, Yusaku can’t ignore the way his heart leaps when Takeru’s hair is pushed back, for in those moments, he can freely admire Takeru’s bone structure. Can trace Takeru’s temples and cheeks and jaw with an observant gaze without Takeru’s bangs obstructing—distracting—his eyes. It’s a pretty face, Yusaku decided years ago, before Takeru mumbled out a confession, before they tried to kiss and bumped noses instead, before they walked home in the blistering summer heat and shared a shaved ice in front of Yusaku’s flat.  
  
“Good idea,” Yusaku replies, closing his notebook.  
  
It was too hot for homework anyway.  
  
x  
  
The air is wet and muggy. So much so that the instant Yusaku steps outside, he can feel his skin dampen and his shirt cling to his skin. It’s an uncomfortable sensation, unlike feeling Takeru’s sweaty chest pressing against his as their bodies move as one, or feeling the suffocating heat wrapping around them whenever Takeru thinks making out beneath the covers is a good idea.  
  
Takeru’s fingers interlace with Yusaku’s, clammy palms sticking. Takeru flashes Yusaku a smile and tugs, pulling Yusaku close enough so that the heat from the sun dulls in comparison to the radiance vibrating between their joined hands.  
  
“My treat,” Takeru chimes, unaware that he is the cause of the blush on Yusaku’s cheeks.  
  
“You don’t have to,” Yusaku says softly, squeezing Takeru’s hand. He can feel beads of sweat dripping down the back of his neck, but his body wants nothing more than to pull Takeru closer and lose itself in the warmth that Takeru’s embrace and lips shower on his skin whenever the dishes were done and the sun had set.  
  
With a smile, Takeru adds, “I want to.”  
  
Yusaku can never say no.  
  
x  
  
Takeru is much neater about eating ice cream than Yusaku is. Yusaku’s idea involves letting the damn thing melt down his fingers until not one, not two, but three napkins are needed to somewhat clean up the mess. Even then, Yusaku needs to wage war against the heat encouraging droplets of chocolate to trickle merrily down pale skin. Takeru laughs all the while Yusaku struggles, pulling napkins from his pocket, while casually eating what’s left of his ice cream cone.

“It’s so hot, we can’t even eat ice cream,” Yusaku mumbles, shoving the last of his treat into his mouth. His fingers are sticky, and the glaring sunlight is making him feel worse.

“It’s my fault. I should’ve suggested milkshakes,” Takeru says with amusement, though his voice lowers with the next words, a bright blush dusting over his cheeks. “Guess I just wanted to say happy anniversary.”

Yusaku raises a brow. Though he’s good with numbers, he’s terrible with dates. Often forgets birthdays. Usually forgets their anniversary. Takeru, thankfully, doesn’t care about Yusaku’s aloofness, but he does remember their anniversary every year, and he always tries to do something nice for Yusaku, despite their conflicting university schedules and part-time work hours.

Green eyes meet a lavender blue gaze that catches the sunlight regardless of where Takeru stands. Yusaku used to wonder how someone like Takeru could shine so vibrantly, could emit more heat than bonfires and stovetops, but every time Takeru smiled, Yusaku recalls the answer.    
  
“I love you,” Yusaku blurts. It’s unexpected. Rare for him to be so forward even three years into their relationship. Unlikely for him to be the first one to voice what he was feeling.  
  
Takeru smiles, cheeks round and rosy and kissable. “I love you too, Yusaku,” he replies as he pulls out another napkin and presses it against Yusaku’s chin. “You missed a spot.”

Yusaku blushes and laughs, cheeks warmer than they were minutes ago.  
  
x  
  
The fan is still broken, but the sun has set. Their clothes decorate the floor. The only thing separating them is the old cotton bedsheet covering the lower half of Yusaku’s body.

“It’s too hot,” Takeru mutters, eyes closed, droplets of sweat gathering at his hairline and dripping down his neck.

Yusaku watches Takeru’s chest rise and fall. Observes the way his lashes flutter. Stares at his messy hair and the faint red marks embellishing his neck.

Takeru turns his head and meets Yusaku’s gaze, adding a soft, “But I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Reaching over to brush Takeru’s hair behind his ear, Yusaku slides closer, drapes a leg over Takeru’s thighs, and joins their lips. “Neither would I,” he whispers as he pulls away. He means it from the bottom of his heart, and Takeru knows, for Takeru grins, reaches up, and their lips lock once more.

The air gets thicker. The room a little hotter. But neither seem to notice.


	10. Chapter 10

**Rating:** G  
 **Word Count:** ~875  
 **Notes:** Three times Takeru and Yusaku sleep together. In the most innocent of ways because, despite the fact that I write a heck of a lot of smut, I (apparently) mostly like writing about these two snuggling.

xxx

It isn’t the first time Takeru falls asleep during what is supposed to be a study session. The first time it happened, Takeru apologized and blamed the math equations for hurting his eyes. The second time, Takeru told Yusaku he was tired from staying up all night and needed only a quick—three hours did not count as a quick—nap.

This time, however, Takeru is on Yusaku’s bed, curled in the center, hugging his pillow.

Yusaku blinks and stares down at Takeru, unsure if leaving him alone is the best idea. There is a chance that Takeru could sleep through the night, in which case, Yusaku wouldn’t have a place to sleep.

“I can scoot over,” Takeru mumbles groggily, very much half asleep.

“I’m not tired.”

Wiggling to the side, Takeru pats the empty space, eyes remaining closed.

Yusaku watches Takeru’s hand as it pulls away. Watches the way Takeru’s bangs shift against the pillow as he breathes. Watches the way his mouth opens slightly, muscles reposing in tranquil bliss.

Yusaku isn’t sure why his body moves when it does, but he’s on the bed faster than he can think. He’s sure he’s not tired, but something about the way Takeru wrinkles his nose in his sleep relaxes him, soothes him into a state of peaceful euphoria.

Their bodies barely touch, but the warmth is enough to shut down Yusaku’s thoughts for the night.  

x

Yusaku stops counting after three, after he becomes accustomed to the warmth Takeru showers upon his skin whenever they lull to sleep side by side.

The train ride to Takeru’s grandparents’ home isn’t terribly long, and the train isn’t crowded, so they are able to sit together in the back of the wagon. Takeru insists Yusaku take the window seat. He wants Yusaku to watch the scenery. Watch the buildings transform into trees. Watch the dull colors of the city become vibrant with life and nature.

Takeru’s cheek touches Yusaku’s shoulder halfway into the ride. His breathing is heavy, a soft lullaby echoing alongside the monotonous whizzing of the tracks.

Yusaku’s heart flutters. When he turns his head, Takeru’s hair brushes his cheek. It’s soft. Smells clean. Of shampoo. Of comfort and familiarity and late nights spent eating ramen and sharing stupid memes while they melt into the mattress.

Closing his eyes, Yusaku presses his cheek against Takeru’s head and hopes they don’t miss their stop.

x

It was cold. So cold that Yusaku hadn’t removed himself from the warm sanctuary his blankets provided despite knowing he promised Takeru to meet him for breakfast.

The knock on his door brings a groan to Yusaku’s lips, but he refuses to move and, instead, buries his head under the blankets. If Takeru wants to eat, he would have to go on his own because there is no way Yusaku is getting out of bed, undressing himself, and putting on clothes that were most likely colder than his skin.

A faint light catches Yusaku’s gaze. The text is from Takeru.

||Did you die??? D:||

Yusaku frowns, rolls onto his side, and types a quick reply.

||Sorry. Use your key.||

Shoving the phone beneath his pillow, Yusaku rolls back onto his stomach. The doorknob clicks, and what sounds like a paper bag rustles before footsteps patter, Takeru mumbles something under his breath, and the door closes.

“You’re not even out of bed,” Takeru observes, voice laced with amusement.

Peeking his head out, Yusaku eyes the bag Takeru holds in one hand, then stares at the drink carrier he holds in the other hand. “You bought breakfast?”

Takeru sets the bag and drinks down on Yusaku’s desk and smiles. “And hot chocolate.”

The word _hot_ vibrates within Yusaku’s soul, and had it not been for the sudden weight bearing down upon his body, he might have left the blankets in favor of burning his tongue.

“You shoulda told me you weren’t going to get up,” Takeru murmurs, nuzzling his face into Yusaku’s pillow.

Yusaku blushes, the first hint of warmth kissing his cheeks the moment Takeru wraps his arms around him. “I didn’t mean to,” he replies, poking a hand out to remove Takeru’s glasses. “You should have told me you were going to buy breakfast.”

Takeru wears his smile proudly, gaze colliding with Yusaku’s as he idly throws a leg over Yusaku’s blanket-wrapped thighs. “Didn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

With a hum, Yusaku touches his nose to Takeru’s and closes his eyes. Whenever Takeru is around, Yusaku forgets it is the middle of winter. Besides carrying sunshine in his eyes, Takeru was perpetually warm. Like a personal heater with strong arms and a comforting voice.

They wake up hours later. After the sun has been out long enough to chase away the icy morning. After their bodies find each other beneath the blankets and fuse into a single mass. After Yusaku dreams of spring and eating ice cream alongside Takeru, beneath the shade of a cherry blossom tree.

Takeru’s hair is a mess, yet he dons his bedhead with grace and laughs when he finally sits up and kisses Yusaku’s cheek. Breakfast is cold and oddly delicious. The hot chocolate didn’t live up to its name, but Yusaku likes the taste just fine paired with Takeru’s lips.


	11. Chapter 11

**Rating:** Strong T? The third drabble gets a little steamy, but there’s no smut. The last one has some heavy making out, but these are kissing prompts, so expect some intense smooching every now and then  
**Word Count:** ~180 - 280 per ficlet  
**Notes:** My friend and I discovered this kiss challenge post from Tumblr, and though we’re in different fandoms, we spent the better part of a day last week sending each other words and filling these prompts. There are 20 total, but I’m posting only 5 today. If I find motivation to format the rest, I’ll post them at some point this week, but I'm laaaaaazy so I may not format anything until next week. :D;

xxx

**_Prompt:_ ** _sick + b_ _reaking the kiss to say something/staying so close that you’re murmuring into each other’s mouths_

 

The repetitive sneezing should have been a clear warning. Yusaku rarely missed class, even if he spent the entire night logged onto Link VRAINS. Yet Takeru seemingly ignored the signs and, instead of buying Yusaku medicine or asking why he skipped school, Takeru smiled when Yusaku opened the front door and greeted his boyfriend the same way he always did—with a sweet kiss.

For the span of a breath, Yusaku forgot he was sick and, despite how sluggish his body felt, he wondered if Takeru’s lips weren’t some secret antidote his body needed to heal itself.  

“Takeru,” Yusaku murmured into the kiss, logical thoughts overtaking whatever fever-induced ideas his brain was conjuring.

Takeru hummed, cupped Yusaku’s cheeks, and rubbed his thumbs along Yusaku’s cheekbones.

“I’m sick,” Yusaku mumbled. A small, disappointed whine escaped his throat when Takeru pulled back, but he knew it was for the best. He didn’t want Takeru to catch whatever he had.

With a soft laugh, Takeru replied, “I figured, but I don’t care.”

Yusaku scrunched his brows, parting his lips to insist Takeru keep his distance.

The words melted between their lips.

x

**_Prompt:_ ** _blind +_ _moving around while kissing/stumbling over things/pushing each other back against the wall or onto the bed_

 

Takeru couldn’t see a damn thing when they entered their flat. Darkness engulfed the small entry and kitchen, and only a sliver of moonlight spilled past the living room blinds. The light did little to help though, for thanks to Yusaku’s urgency, Takeru’s glasses came off the second Yusaku closed the door behind them, and Takeru could do nothing but surrender himself fully to nighttime’s embrace.

Their lips collided, an amalgamation of need, desire, and relief set to the tune of longing. Takeru had gone home for three days to visit his grandparents, but it was three days too long. Three days that felt more like three years. Three days Yusaku apparently wanted to make up for.

Yusaku didn’t break the kiss. Even when he began leading Takeru past the kitchen and into their bedroom, Yusaku stubbornly kept one hand buried in Takeru’s hair.

Takeru grinned into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Yusaku’s waist when he felt the mattress touch the back of his legs.

Their lips broke apart. Takeru’s head missed the pillow. A laugh escaped his lungs. Instinctively, his hand reached for Yusaku’s face, fingertips tracing Yusaku’s jaw, cheek, temple.

“You missed me that much?” Takeru joked, rubbing his fingers against the base of Yusaku’s head.

“Mm,” Yusaku hummed and leaned closer.

Takeru didn’t need his eyes. He could feel the intensity of Yusaku’s reply.

x

**_Prompt:_ ** _undone +_ _kissing so desperately that their whole body curves into the other person’s_

 

Takeru could claim unintelligence all he wanted, but he wasn’t fooling Yusaku. Not when all it took was one kiss for Takeru to learn how utterly easy it was for Yusaku’s world to unravel beneath his hands.

Yusaku’s bed wasn’t the most comfortable, but Yusaku didn’t care. Not when Takeru hovered over him. Pressed him into the mattress. Unbuttoned his shirt and slipped his hands beneath the fabric. Palms smoothed over Yusaku’s stomach and chest, fingers lightly tracing ribs, gliding across nipples. Yusaku moaned, unaccustomed to the intimacy, yet captivated by the gentleness and affection, by the wave of unfamiliar emotions sparkling within his chest.

Reaching up, Yusaku tangled his fingers in Takeru’s hair. Brought him closer. Shuddered at the sigh that fluttered between locked-lips. His spine curved, chest pressing into Takeru’s, heartbeat drumming loudly in his chest. It wasn’t easy for him to let go of his walls. To fall apart in front of someone—anyone. To allow someone to have so much power over him.

“Yusaku,” Takeru whispered against Yusaku’s jaw, a breathy caress promising endless warmth.

Takeru knew how to tear apart Yusaku’s world, but he just as effortlessly completed him.

x

**_Prompt:_ ** _surprise +_ _throwing their arms around the other person, holding them close while they kiss_

 

It had been exactly six hours since Yusaku left for class. Six hours since Yusaku kissed Takeru goodbye. Six hours since Takeru’s smile caused Yusaku’s heart to beat a little too wildly in his chest. Sometimes, their class and work schedules didn’t line up, and they wouldn’t see each other until the end of the day, lest one of them passed out on the couch first.

Yusaku didn’t mind how busy they were. Sure, he missed hearing Takeru’s voice throughout the day. Missed the warmth his fingers provided when they coiled around his hand. Missed the dreary, lazy afternoons when they were still in high school. But if they wanted to eat and pass class, they had to work and attend lessons.

Every now and then, however, Takeru surprised Yusaku. It wasn’t often, but Takeru would sometimes show up on campus with a coffee or a snack for Yusaku.  

Yusaku almost didn’t see Takeru sprinting toward him. Almost didn’t have time to react to Takeru’s arms wrapping around his neck. Before Yusaku could utter a word, lips descended upon his, catching him off guard, prompting his body to melt into a tight hug. Takeru smiled into the kiss, while Yusaku returned the embrace and gave his boyfriend a squeeze.

“I thought you were working till 8,” Yusaku wondered out loud when Takeru pulled away, both their cheeks stained rose pink.

Takeru smiled, excitement beaming in his eyes. “Someone needed to change shifts, so I volunteered.”

A small smile formed on Yusaku’s lips.

“And I brought you a croissant, but you owe me another kiss,” Takeru added, closing the distance between their lips once more.

The kiss was all Yusaku needed.

x

**_Prompt:_ ** _storm +_ _hands on the other person’s back, fingertips pressing under their top, drawing gentle circles against that small strip of bare skin that make them break the kiss with a gasp_

 

Yusaku wasn’t always affectionate, but the rain had its side effects. Whenever droplets crashed into the window pane and thunder roared in the distance, Yusaku’s lips sought Takeru’s in the darkness. With a soft tug, Takeru rolled into Yusaku’s arms, lips lazily meeting, hands tossing aside blankets in search of skin.

The black tank top Takeru wore to bed was easy to slip into, and Yusaku’s fingers wasted no time in drawing patterns against Takeru’s back. He liked the feel of Takeru’s skin and muscles. Liked how warm Takeru was against his cool touch. Liked the way Takeru moved against him whenever he glided fingertips up and down his spine.

A small gasp escaped Takeru’s lips. Yusaku smiled, moved his lips to Takeru’s jaw, splayed his palm against his lower back.

“Why’re you always so cold,” Takeru sleepily murmured, slipping his own hand under Yusaku’s shirt, rubbing fingertips against the base of Yusaku’s spine.

Yusaku shrugged, “Maybe you were meant to keep me warm.”

It was Takeru’s cheeks that blossomed in heat.


	12. Chapter 12

**Rating:** T (no smut, but fun times is implied in the 4th ficlet)  
**Word Count:** ~175 - 280 per ficlet  
**Notes:**  Continuation of the kissing challenge from the last post. Only 10 more to post after this batch! (It’s taking me so long because formatting on a phone is a bitch okay. I’m sorry;;;)

xxx

 **_Prompt:_ ** _bribe + lazy morning kisses before they’ve even opened their eyes, still mumbling half-incoherently, not wanting to wake up_

 

Living with Yusaku was quite a monotonous affair, but waking him up every morning was a new adventure each day. Yusaku was not a morning person, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get to sleep before midnight. Takeru didn’t have nearly as many issues getting up in the morning—it wasn’t that he preferred daylight, but the less hours he was awake at night, the less chance encounters with ghosts. 

Takeru did, however, have three small consolation prizes that urged him out of bed at the break of dawn—Yusaku’s bedhead, vulnerable whines of protest, and disappointed pouts that begged to be kissed. 

“Wake up, sleepy head,” Takeru whispered, hovering above Yusaku, beaming a smile brighter than sunshine. 

Yusaku groaned, pulled the blankets over his head, and mumbled an incoherent curse. 

Takeru laughed softly and leaned down, kissing Yusaku’s nose through the blanket. When that didn’t work, he pulled the blanket down and pressed fleeting kisses across Yusaku’s forehead and cheek. 

A pout appeared on Yusaku’s lips. He cracked open an eye, peeked at Takeru, and sighed. “Why’d you wake me,” he whined, squirming beneath Takeru’s weight. 

Takeru smiled and brushed their noses together. “Good morning. I made breakfast.”

Yusaku groaned, but he sleepily kissed Takeru on the cheek and smiled, “Good morning.”

x

 **_Prompt:_ ** _concentration or distraction + routine kisses where the other person presents their cheek/forehead for the hello/goodbye kiss without even looking up from what they’re doing_

 

Yusaku had a way of becoming entirely engrossed in whatever programming project he was assigned in class. Without much thought, his gaze adhered itself to the computer screen, his fingers mindlessly tapping at the keys. He could stay in the same position for hours, working nonstop, sometimes going beyond the parameters of the assignment. The only time he would perk was when the front door opened, and Takeru’s voice rang through the hall and into their bedroom.

“I’m home!”

Yusaku’s eyes remained transfixed on the screen, but he managed a hushed  _welcome home_  right as Takeru entered the room.  

As usual, Takeru walked up to Yusaku, who tilted his head slightly and presented his cheek to Takeru.

“You haven’t been at it all day, have you?” Takeru asked, leaning down to kiss his boyfriend tenderly.

“I don’t know,” was Yusaku’s reply, eyes shifting to the clock at the bottom of the computer screen. “Five hours.”

Takeru’s face paled. “You haven’t moved in five hours?”

Yusaku shrugged, fingers still tapping, eyes still glued to the screen.

Takeru shook his head, placed his hands on Yusaku’s shoulders, and began to knead away the tension gathered there. “Guess this means you’re hungry, right? Because I might have bought us pizza for dinner.”

At the mention of food, Yusaku’s fingers stopped moving. “You brought home pizza?” He asked, relaxing into Takeru’s touch, eyes drifting shut as the feel of Takeru’s fingers soothed him.

“I did,” Takeru confirmed, rubbing the base of Yusaku’s neck. “There’s dessert too.”

Yusaku stood and grabbed Takeru’s hand. It was Takeru’s turn to offer his cheek for a kiss. Yusaku complied with a smile. His class project could wait.

x

 ** _Prompt:_** _innocent +_ _being unable to open their eyes for a few moments afterward_  

 

It was hard for Takeru to pinpoint the exact moment his crush transformed into, well, a mega-crush, but he thought the way Yusaku’s lashes fluttered whenever he and Yusaku kissed had a lot to do with his increased heart rate and the dreamy smiles and sighs that followed.

Yusaku wasn’t shy when tongue was involved—there was a raw need that seemed to flare whenever they were alone on the couch together, lips locked, fingers tangled in hair—but every time Takeru placed a chaste kiss against Yusaku’s lips, Yusaku’s eyes would remain closed for a second too long, while a hint of blush dusted his cheeks. Pulling away and watching as Yusaku’s mind slowly began to work again, as his lashes danced upon his cheekbones before floating upward, as he met Takeru’s gaze and smiled faintly made the kiss all the more endearing.

Yusaku was cute. His smile was cute. His eyes were cute. His rosy cheeks were cute. And all Takeru could do to stop his heart’s racing was to lean forward and give Yusaku another gentle kiss.

x

 **_Prompt:_ ** _consequences +_ _one small kiss, pulling away for an instant, then devouring each other_

 

They were supposed to go to sleep. Takeru had an early shift the next morning, and Yusaku had a final exam.

The initial goodnight kiss was brief. Takeru rolled over with the intention of pecking Yusaku on the cheek. Instead, their lips met. It was soft and sweet and lingered for a bit longer than Takeru expected. When they pulled apart, their gazes met. Takeru didn’t want to roll back to his side of the bed. He was content basking in the warmth created between their bodies, in drowning in a sea of emerald, in feeling Yusaku’s breath against his lips.

Yusaku moved first. Pulled Takeru’s shirt. Tugged on Takeru’s arm till he rolled on top of him and their lips connected, their bodies pressed, their hands furtively searched for skin to caress and worship.

Yusaku’s gasp broke the kiss, body wiggling beneath Takeru’s as Takeru’s hands splayed against his stomach and traveled up his chest.

“Takeru,” Yusaku breathed, and even though the room was dark, Takeru knew Yusaku’s cheeks were flushed.

“Does this mean sleep’s out of the question?” Takeru hummed, pressing his lips against Yusaku’s neck, grazing the tips of his fingers across Yusaku’s nipples.

Yusaku replied with a short, shuddering gasp and a half-nod. They could worry about the repercussions in the morning.  

x

 **_Prompt:_ ** _embarrassment +_ _staring at the other’s lips, trying not to kiss them, before giving in_

 

Sometimes, when Takeru sat with Kusanagi and Yusaku and watched them type and hack and do whatever else they were doing at their computers, Takeru’s attention wandered. It wasn’t that he didn’t find computers interesting—well, he didn’t, but that wasn’t the problem. It was that Takeru’s eyes liked to observe the way Yusaku’s fingers moved. Liked to watch Yusaku’s brows furrow in concentration. Liked to stare at his lips as his small frown turned into a slight pout or a satisfied smile. 

Takeru didn’t think it would be polite to kiss his boyfriend in front of Kusanagi—plus, Yusaku might feel awkward—so he waited and counted minutes and discreetly stared at Yusaku, feeling his cheeks get warm whenever Yusaku glanced his way.

As soon as Yusaku was done and they all said their goodbyes, Takeru made his move, reached for Yusaku’s arm, and pulled him close to seal their lips. Though surprised, Yusaku sighed and leaned into Takeru, combing his fingers through Takeru’s hair, gingerly playing with the strands.

“I’ve been waiting to do that all afternoon,” Takeru mumbled when they broke apart, a light blush coating his cheeks. If he didn’t know any better, Takeru thought he saw amusement flicker past Yusaku’s eyes. “What’s so funny?”

Yusaku pulled away, but kept their hands linked. “Kusanagi-san noticed the staring,” he replied with a shrug. 

Takeru felt his face light up.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm going to post a few other things before formatting the rest of those kiss challenge ficlets. XD It's just easier to format these short random drabbles (andIamlazy)

**Word Count** : ~360  
 **Rating** : sMut  
 **Notes** : Established relationship. Also, Yusaku tops. I know. A rarity in the English side of the TakeYusa fandom, so I guess this is technically YusaTake.

xxx

The trembling moan that escaped Takeru’s lungs was not nearly as appetizing as Takeru’s scent. Burying his nose against the nape of Takeru’s neck, Yusaku breathed in the faint smell of frankincense and lavender, of sweat and skin, of familiar scents that bathed his bedsheets and lived in the threads of his clothes. His lips pressed against Takeru’s warm skin, drinking in the shudders and faint gasps that erupted every time he thrusted deeper. Takeru’s hair tickled his nose, but it didn’t stop Yusaku from planting kiss after kiss along Takeru’s neck and shoulders, lavishing adoration with each lingering touch.

“Y-yusaku,” Takeru breathed, hands fisted in the bedsheets, legs spread wide, hair a tousled mess. He moaned loudly the next second, the friction between the bed and his erection unbearably addicting.

Yusaku reached around Takeru’s hips, fingers encircling the length of his arousal before giving him a gentle squeeze.

Takeru closed his eyes. Scrunched his brows. Breathed out heavily. He knew Yusaku was taking his time to drown in his warmth, to shower devotion upon his skin, to make sure he was left an absolute trembling mess. But the pressure was growing, fueled by the slamming, incited by the clumsy kisses against his shoulders.

A desperate “Yusaku!” tore from Takeru’s throat as he came, the name echoing in the flat, ringing in Takeru’s ears alongside the deep moans rippling behind him.

Yusaku replied by groaning _Takeru_ and spilling inside, thighs trembling from both excitement and exertion. It wasn’t long before his strength disappeared, and his chest collided with Takeru’s sweaty back.

A minute, an hour, a lifetime—Takeru couldn’t keep track of time—passed. “You’re not… gonna fall asleep… are you?” He breathed, trying to fill his lungs but failing.

“Mm,” Yusaku hummed, rubbing his nose into Takeru’s hair before rolling off. “Now I am,” he replied softly, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

Takeru missed the smothering warmth, but he smiled, scooted closer, and buried his face against Yusaku’s neck. Yusaku returned the smile and pressed his cheek against Takeru’s head, his scent soothing him into a deep sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

**Rating:** G  
 **Word Count:** ~340  
 **Notes:** Requested by a dear friend <3

xxx

“What’s a waltz?” Flame asked, tilting his head to one side.

“It’s a type of dance,” Takeru replied with a smile.

At the word _dance_ , Ai perked and grabbed both Takeru’s and Yusaku’s sleeve. “Show us! Show us!”

Yusaku frowned, poking Ai in the stomach to get him to release his sleeve. “No.”

Had he lips, Ai would have pouted. Instead, he turned his attention to Takeru and waved his arms, “Pleeeeease?”

Even before Takeru agreed and reached for Yusaku’s hand, Yusaku knew the idea was silly. Yusaku had no rhythm, had never danced before, had never even seen a waltz for longer than a second on tv. Takeru insisted he was the same, that he had never danced in his life, that he couldn’t keep a beat to save himself. But then he took Yusaku’s hand and pulled Yusaku close, and Yusaku’s only thought was to accuse Takeru of lying. 

In reality, they probably both looked like a couple of idiots, swaying to some cheesy love song Ai quickly looked up on YouTube. Yusaku was sure he stepped on Takeru’s feet a couple of times, but Takeru did nothing but laugh and continue trying to lead Yusaku in what was perhaps the messiest waltz in the history of humanity. 

Ai nudged Flame’s side, holding back a laugh as he leaned close to whisper, “You think they’ll ever notice?”

Flame observed the two boys as they almost toppled to the floor, Yusaku’s smile breaking into soft laughter. It was much quieter than Takeru’s, but Yusaku’s eyes were beaming just as brightly as Takeru’s, each boy seemingly drowning in pools of emerald and lavender blue. 

“Give them a few weeks,” Flame replied with a small shrug. 

Ai giggled and added, “Yusaku-chan’s a lot more dense than you realize.”

Yusaku proved Ai’s point when he tripped into Takeru’s arms a second later and, despite the close proximity, failed to register the blush blooming on Takeru’s cheeks.

Flame sighed. “Months. Give them a few months.”

The song ended, but Ai’s laughter continued.

 


End file.
